


cuz i love you

by HistoryRead



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HistoryRead/pseuds/HistoryRead
Summary: He wants all his attention.He wants to be his obsession.
Relationships: Brian David Gilbert/Patrick Gill
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	cuz i love you

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE shout-out to [wintersweather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersweather) for beta reading this fic after I reached out to them. Thank you so much! I couldn't have done this without your help.
> 
> I have a soft heart and cried while listening to lizzo's "cuz i love you" which inspired this fic
> 
> set in 2018 gng era

Pat’s sort of been in love before, although it never really lasted as he had hoped. Most of his friends already had long term partners by 30, some married—hell, even had children—but not him. He figured he wasn’t really made for love, figured he was too difficult to do so. It wasn’t something he felt too ashamed about, but it’d be nice, he imagined, nice to have a partner that would love him unconditionally, that would give him the world just to see his smile.

Tinder wasn’t really working as he had hoped. Sure, he had a date or two, but it’s hard—love is hard. He was so touch starved for a simple brush against his skin, for a pair of hands sliding down his back, slipping into his back pockets. A heart overflowing with love but no one to pour it onto made him feel a little bit sadder, a little bit more like he was losing hope.

He didn’t understand why this whole love and dating thing was so difficult. 

_“You say I love you too much.”_ One told him.

_“You’re so obsessive.”_ Said another.

Emptying his heart never seemed to mean anything, never seemed to lead him anywhere.

His efforts never felt enough, _he_ didn’t feel enough. He never really wore his heart on his sleeve, not like Brian. He always admired him for that, wished honey-dipped words could easily escape his lips the way Brian’s does.

“What a stream, huh?”

Brian’s voice took him back to reality.

It’s nice, listening to Brian’s voice, listening to his stream proposals, peculiar ones he never would have thought of that chat would sure enjoy.

With Brian, everything felt different. A sense of calm washed over him, but when Brian sat a little too close, when Brian’s cold fingers brushed against the warmth of his skin, his body told him to run. 

Pat was familiar with this feeling: the pull, the hurt, the comfort.

Thus when the Shadow of the Colossus stream happened, he wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. One usable microphone and two co-workers having the bright idea of carrying each other in front of a few hundred viewers because they thought it’d be funny.

Pat wasn’t sure why he continued to push Brian’s limits the way he did. Lifting him over his shoulder, hands wrapped around Brian’s thighs, just to hear Brian’s voice shake when he spoke, to hear his voice grow higher pitched, out of breath, his body trembling when Pat sat him down. It felt like a game at first, but once the stream ended, he watched Brian lie back against the sofa, catching his breath, gazing up at Pat with tired, soft eyes, threads of hair falling in front of them. 

Pat knew he was losing.

He knew he was fucked.

For the first time, Pat felt his cheeks flush as he watched Brian lay beautifully, heart pounding hard in his chest. Pat wondered what it would be like to brush Brian’s hair out of his eyes, thread his fingers through the curls.

Pat thought he didn’t care about love, figured he never would. It’s a silly thought, really, to believe such a thing, but when he’s been nothing but down on his luck, no matter his efforts to keep his heart on his sleeve, it’s kind of difficult not to. Brian always wore his heart on his sleeve, never afraid to show affection, never afraid to speak from the heart, so why did Pat feel so different? 

Brian had always been kind to him, inviting him over for drinks after work at some shitty bar, brushing the hair out of Pat’s eyes when he asked, both drinking at ungodly hours and then sharing a ride home to Pat’s apartment because Brian didn’t want to sleep alone that night.

It probably doesn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t mean anything.

But maybe it does mean something when Pat finds himself resting his hand on Brian’s thigh at angles the camera can’t catch, when Brian unsubtly flirts throughout each segment, and when they’re eagerly kissing each other once the cameras are off, Pat’s fist gripping the back of Brian’s shirt, too afraid to let go.

Maybe it meant something.

Pat often found himself walking in the rain, carrying bags of Brian’s favorite snacks and drinks from local bodegas to Brian’s apartment because he knew it’d make him smile, hoped Brian could see his efforts of endearment. It probably doesn’t mean much, he figured, but when he’s so desperately in love, desperate for affection, he’d do it all again.

He wants all his attention. 

He wants to be his obsession.

They’d lie in bed together late into the night, Brian embraced in Pat’s arms, the room quiet enough to hear each other’s breath. 

Perhaps it was too quiet. 

Brian’s eyes remained closed and Pat wasn’t sure if he had fallen asleep. He looked peaceful like this, curled up under the sheets into the warmth of Pat’s chest. He looked absolutely angelic, and Pat didn’t understand how such an angel cared enough for a demon like him.

Part of him still wants to run, wants to escape before the hurt happens all again. They shouldn’t be doing this, he doesn’t deserve him. He’s never been good enough, why was this any different?

But it _was_ different.

Pat’s heart ached, for he never thought he’d ever fall for Brian, never thought he’d find himself curled up besides him in his bed, feeling his warmth against his chest, trying to pretend this wasn’t real.

It was real and Pat knew. 

He never wanted to love again, but with Brian in his arms, he never wants to let go, never wants to kiss another, touch another, never wants to give his heart to another that isn’t him.

He shouldn’t be crying, he shouldn’t be feeling this pain in his chest. He doesn’t want to be seen like this, doesn’t want Brian to see him like this.

Of course Brian notices. He sits up against the headboard to cup Pat’s face, thumb brushing against his cheek, wiping away the tears, and Pat’s never felt more vulnerable.

He doesn’t speak and Brian doesn’t press on it, waits for him to stop, waits for him to be ready.

“It’s nothing,” He lies, because he has to save his dignity somehow.

Brian’s fingers brush the hair out of Pat’s eyes, tucks it behind his ear, and it only makes Pat’s heart ache more.

Neither of them know how much time has passed them by as the room resumes its silence.

“I love you,” Pat admits because he’d rather rip the bandaid off quickly than continue agonizing in the pain that’s eating him alive, the pain of not knowing if this will last, if this even meant anything, if he even meant anything to Brian.

“Pat, I—”

“I love you,” He says again, then again, because he’d rather not hear Brian reject him, would rather just hear the sound of his own voice admitting his love and singing it to the heavens than knowing his feelings will never be returned.

Pat’s unsure when he fell hopelessly in love with him—hopeless for a man that belted out showtunes ever opportunity he got, hopeless for the spunky new coworker that nervously came up to him one day and suggested they’d stream a nightmare public access show, with the coworker he’d kiss every once in a while because he yearned to be touched, yearned to be loved.

Brian slides back under the covers and presses his lips against Pat’s forehead, against the corner of his eye, on his cheek, on the white spot of his beard, and pulls Pat into his chest. He brushes the hair out of his eyes again, tucking it snug behind his ear and presses his lips softly against his. 

“I love you too,” He whispered between kisses. “I love you.” He said again, because he needed to make himself clear, needed to let him know he’s loved, know he’s cherished. Brian understood wholeheartedly how difficult love was and the pain that came with it, how difficult it was for Pat. Brian repeats his love rhythmically between every kiss, between every hot breath until he finds himself tearing up too.

“Pat,” Brian shook his head and giggled. “Pat Gill, I’ve had a major crush on you since day one.” He released a staggered laugh, cupping Pat’s face delicately, thumb brushing the last remaining teardrop out of the corner of his eye.

They remained embraced for a while, their foreheads pressed against one another. Silence filled the room and Brian wondered if Pat had exhausted himself to sleep.

He looked peaceful, at ease like every bit of worry had suddenly washed away from his face and all that remained was an angel under the moonlight.

“Pat?” He asked under a hushed breath, because he had to know if he was okay.

Brian felt a fist grip his shirt as Pat tiredly opened his eyes, gazed into his and closed them again, burying his face into the crook of Brian’s neck.

“Thank you,” Pat whispered, and for the first time in his life, he felt safe, safe enough to be vulnerable, to love and to cherish. He knew he would never say goodbye again, nor ever cry tears of sorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading !!!!  
> please leave comments if you can, I'd really appreciate it !!!!!
> 
> i'm on discord, but decided to also make a polygon rpf [twitter](https://twitter.com/histxryread) and [tumblr](https://histxryread.tumblr.com/) so you can find me on there @histxryread for both


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